Midnight Writer REWRITTEN
by too enigmatic 2 b urs
Summary: REWRITTEN VERSION. Sam was a secret writer in Casper high's newspaper. Her life was pretty easy and boring but she liked it as much as she like the most intelligent guy in school But things have begun twisting every second when this Danny Fenton came.DXS
1. Chapter 1

_Hey guys! I'm finally back in the writing zone again. I'm so sorry for keeping you waiting all this time. I know my net life as a writer came in a rough start. _

_Anyway,I made some changes about the story. I don't know if you guys will like it or not but I thought that maybe those changes could make the story more interesting and . And I want to inform you that your reviews did do alot of help and I'm grateful for receiving them.._

_So, I'm gonna stop babbling here and let you in on the __**rewritten version of Midnight Writer**__._

_I almost forgot. I DON'T KNOW DANNY PHANTOM._

_**DP---MIDNIGHT WRITER---PROLOGUE**_

His two thick black ghostly eyebrows furrowed hard as he felt something materialized in front of him. His sadistics, frightening red eyes narrowed fiercely as the stout bluish ghost appeared right before his being, trembling like a baby chick.

"Well?" Demanded the vampire-like ghost. He was getting more and more impatient every second.

"Uh...Uhm.." Fidgeted the azure stout ghost as he suddenly found the ebony floor mesmerizing.

"Where?!" Bellowed the dignified ghost, his eyes turned to sharp slits as he threw a laser pink ray toward the stupidly pathetic ghost.

The azure fat ghost emitted an ear-shattering girly shriek as the sharp ray practically almost hit him. His ghastly eyes wide opened with such fear as he looked frantically to his master. He swalloed a large lump from his throat and began to speak.

"I..t-the b-box gh-" He started loudly and shakily as if attempting to fight off the wave of fright that was trying to eat him. But he was rapidly cut off by his master's mad yell.

"I don't need your name!" His master paused. "I need the place!"

The box ghost started fidgeting again. "Uh...it's..."

"Where?!" This time his master's ghostly arm was already stretched out, aiming directly at him. The poor box ghost panicked. His eyes darted back and forth and his floating body quaked harder and faster than before.

"A-Amity Park,sir!" He blurted out, his arms both raised up in defense, eyes closed in fright.

All of a sudden, his master's angry expression seemed to fade away. He let his arm fall back to its normal position. The box ghost's answer did seem to satisfy him.

"Amity Park." The master echoed as his bloody red eyes lit up slyly. The box ghost couldn't figure out whatever he was thinking. all he knew was, he was safe from his master's punishment--for now.

"He's searching for him. " Stated the vampire-like ghost. "Craving for revenge." He then let lout a loud lunatic laugh that went bouncing off the walls of his freezing cold dark and almost deserted castle.

**DANNY---**

As usual, I skipped dinner. Why? Because my folks would probably freak out if they see their oh-so precious son with an arm that declares it had nearly been burnt down into ashes. Mottled with dark brown like rudely toasted cookies and rich, super black with a cherry red lining down from my shoulder to my left hand. How perfectly artistic. If there's ever a fifth degree burn, this _is_ it.

And my chest? Well, that's a different story. It has this long thin and still bleeding wound. That darn ghost sword of his created one hideous line of bloody red from my right shoulder down to the left side of my ribs. Yeah, I know these wounds are now added to my collection of injuries caused by Vlad Plasmius. And they're hurting like hell.

Him. Vlad. The way I feel whenever I came close to his name, it's inexplicable. My blood instantly turns hot and cold. I got this sudden urge to do violent things. I feel really powerful--powerful enough to make him suffer, to make him pay.

Before, I was once a nice, good boy. You know, considered as one of those 'top' achievers in school, a reliable trustworthy friend, a loving and obedient son...my family's pride and joy. But when Vlad came? When he took a crushing step unto my life? He ruined it. All. Everything. He wrecked me, my feelings and my soul. He attempted to fill my mind with selfish thoughts. He twisted trust and transformed it to betrayal. He put me into heart-shattering situations. Manipulated everything, made my friends hate me. He made me a black sheep to my own family. A problem kid. Someone who seems to stumble from one disaster to another.

He's dreadfully good in creating complex situations and suddenly, he would just pull the string and I, stupidly and instantly going to show up and come to the rescue. (or so I thought) But in the end, I'll just be the victim. A mouse that walked straightly to the trap.

And he did it all in the name of damn **tests!**

Wishing to turn back time is stupid. So what I'm going to do is, get my sweet revenge.

Nothing matters to me now, it's just Vlad and my revenge. I swear I'm going to make him pay. I'll find his soft part, his weakness. And when I do, let's just say... It will destroy him slowly and painfully.

So tomorrow? Tomorrow's just going to be like the other dull days of my half- human, half-ghost life--except for the fact that I'll be making progress. A very good progress. Cause I'm sealing the reality that Vlad's going down--deep.

**SAM--**

A loud startling ring echoed throughout the large, dark and sullen room. There was a frightened feminine gasp followed by the minimum quaking of some high-tech equipment. A pale white delicate hand with onyx black painted nails brought the receiver to to a feminine ear.

"Hey Sam." The voice from the other end of the line beamed, so bright it nearly lit up the entire room.

The girl, Sam scowled. Here comes that annoying voice again. She gritted her teeth and spoke in a harsh, dim reply that replaced the invisible glow the receiver sent earlier. "This. Better. Be. Good."

She felt the sudden pause done by the irritating person. She almost smiled as she imagined the person she was talking to gaping as he realized his stupid mistake.

There was a muffled sound from the other end of the line. _He gulped_, she concluded.

"I'm sorry." He mumbled, not much conviction there.

Her brows scrunched together. "Save it." She spat out.

"What's this non-sense, late call all about?"

"Whoa, sounds like you've had a dinner with the queen of pink meadow!"

The way he said it, it was as if he didn't just interrupt her in the middle of her night job.

She gathered up much oxygen in her lungs. This was getting longer than necessary. "Foley, what the heck is this about?"

There. Hope the calling-your-friend-by-his-last-name act would give him the hint that she meant business. No greetings, no sharing stories. Just the main exact reason for his late night inconvience.

He cleared his throat. A silent apology. Good. I'ts really nice to know that he finally registered the situation.

"We have a new classmate."

The problem with Tucker was, he was a publicist. So that means, if there was ever a walking pile of profiles, it got to be Tucker. And mountain-top of other human beings' life stories wasn't exactly the type of news Sam needed in the middle of a busy night.

"I'm not interested." She replied non-chalantly.

"What?!" He paused. "What do you mean you're not interested?"

"As simple as that."

"B-but you need to, you have to!" He blurted out.

Okay..He was beginning to freak out and Sam felt the urge to end the conversation. She really didn't need this.

"Tuck." She called out calmly and cautiously.

"Sam, it"s for your own safety. This guy has a rea-"

"Tuck, I know about that but I'm pretty sure that this new guy. whoever and whatever he is, he won't discover a thing." She delivered slowly as if marking her own words.

He took a moment of silence, absorbing her reassuring words.

"How can you be so sure?" His tone was light curiousity but there was the underlying tinge of doubtness.

Thanks to her dear friend's question, Sam's stomach seemed to churn suddenly. Making her feel like the veggie salad she took for dinner forcibly rushing back. It taste like acid. _How could she be so sure about it?_ One boy couldn't possibly ruin it all, could he? **No,** she wouldn't let that happen. Never. Besides she was just a loser girl, invisble from the crowd. A commoner. A freak. There was no chance someone could mess it up. No ,zero. And that's final.

"I've got it all covered up." The words left her mouth almost impossibly.

"Tuck, I'm safe."

She was, right? Right.

"Okay." He finally surrendered.

"Okay" She echoed. "Bye Tuck."

She quickly hung up, afraid that he'd change his mind any minute. She then stared at the innocent black phone for a few moments. Replaying the fresh conversation in her head. All she said was true, right?. She was safe as far as she know. She got to be.

She sighed. She didn't even want to think about it. All was going acceptably fine. She didn't need negative-whatever in her life. She had so much of it.

Her deep thoughts were meddled by the sudden cold strong gust of wind that stung her arms. She tilted her head to the side and realized she still hadn't close the window.

She stood up and walked toward the the opened window. She was on the verge of closing it when she remembered something.

Earlier that night, she thought she saw something sped through the dark sky. A white streak, she thought. No, actually it wasn't a streak. It was-- it was a mass of hair. A mass of humanish snowy, white hair with a black body. It had to be some sort of a body cause she noticed slender arms and a trunk...followed by a slim, black...tail. A tail?

Great, now she was seeing a human with white hair and black tail flying throughout the ebony night sky. And that was as close as to hearing voices around you.

Another sleep-deprived night and she was certain she would win the one-way ticket to the freaking mental hospital.

She let out a tired exasperation as the window clicked shut.

"I do really need to sleep." She said to no one. She was alone in her room. It didn't matter anyway.

**TUCKER---**

"Sam, I don't think-" Tucker Foley stopped as soon as he realized that Sam had already hung up on him. Again. "-you're safe." He finished his sentence with a heavy sigh. The kind of sigh that held all the exasperation in the world.

He was only attempting to warn Sam about the new kid. He didn't mean to disturb her this time of the night...Okay, maybe he really did. But his reason was valid and urgent. She had to cut him some slack. Right? Ugh.

It was due to this kid, what was his name again? David? No. Drake? No. D..It starts with a 'D'...

He made a grab for the mouse and scanned the school's website. His brown fingers raced down on the keyboard as he typed some keywords. Click. A couple of firewalls the school had put up appeared. A confident grin spreaded across his face. Lame firewalls, so much for keeping students' records confidential. Double click. Type codes. Click.

**View transferee student's records?**

**Yes. **

_**Accessing the records, please wait.**_

He really loved dodging firewalls and safety passwords. It was like layering the icing on top of the cake. Sweet and yummy. Hmmm.

_**Access denied. Error #4320 Connection to the internet failed.**_

"What?!" He shrieked in pure and overwhelming disbelief. This couldn't be happening. He refreshed the web page and stood waiting again.

_**Cannot Find Server**_

His fist reflexively banged on the desk in front of him, allowing the whole computer to shake visibly. Shit. Why did they call this high-speed internet anyway with that inviting amount of megabytes per second?

He decided to give it another try. He refreshed it again, half hoping it would soon be completed and half expecting it wouldn't.

Much to his own surprise, the page emerged rapidly and completely. His insides started to jumble in anticipation. The guy's photo was on the top of the page. He didn't pay much attention to it instead he scrolled down to have a good look on his profile and began reading. The photo could wait.

**NAME: DANIEL FENTON**

**GENDER: MALE**

**AGE: 16**

**CITIZENSHIP: AMERICAN**

**LAST SCHOOL ATTENDED: WISCONSIN HIGH**

_Wisconsin?____That was like miles from here._ What did he find so interesting in Amity park? Why did he transfer here? And most importantly, WHY was he here? It didn't make any sense. Amity park didn't exactly srtike the words popular, attractive and ultimately modern. In fact, this town was so small and infamous.

Tucker's sea green eyes flickered, looking for Daniel's past grades. He searched every corner and found nothing. So he scrolled back up to see the provided image of him.

He stared at it longer than necessary. He was aiming to be a profiler someday. Hoping he could join the CIA or FBI after his college graduation. So this was the best time to put his 'skills' to the test.

This Daniel guy got raven black hair. He owned a perfect-shaped nose and thin lips. If Tucker was a girl, he would've categorized him as handsome. But since he was a guy he would settle him second handsome. The first was him, of course.

The one that grope Tucker's full attention was Daniel's eyes. It was a pair of sky blue. Another factor that always caught the girls' fragile hearts. He snorted. Green eyes were more manly than blue. Blue was a cliche eye color anyway.

Tucker was a geek but he didn't go for future telling or mind reading and all that creepy stuff. But he could clearly see something different in this kid's eyes. He was glaring back at the camera yet Tucker could make out some other emotions. Sadness. Disappointment. Regret. This Fenton guy looked like he blamed the world for his existenceas his front but there was an inexplicable misery behind it.

He shrugged. He could be wrong anyway and that guy could be nothing but just a pathetic creature like Dash.

He whole prying thing sucked up his energy. He needed to rest. They still had school tomorrow so if he wanted to continue his warning-Sam-bout-the-new-kid mission he'd have to get some sleep. And now was the most delicious time to do it.

**DP-----**

_**It was quite longer than the first version. I hope you guys will like it.**_

_**Please tell me what you think.**_

_**Too enigmatic 2 b urs.**_

_**Later,**_


	2. Danny: The Disaster Driver

_**I realized that I accidentally wrote know instead of own on the previous chappie. And I am sooo sorry about that. I really am. -sad face-**_

_**And now, I've got it right. **_

_**I own nothing except the plot.**_

_**DP---**_

_**Chapter 2: **__**Danny : The Disaster Driver**_

**S**leep-deprived was the most appropriate term to describe Sam's exhausted purple eyes. After she landed this job on **Spark**, the school's newspaper, she had never established an 8-hour night sleep again. Not that she regret it but being always up after midnight sucked up her energy, making her feel sleepy in every class. Especially Lancer's class. Her first period class. But that was later she loved her secret job even though it was a mixture of sacrifice and struggle. The job itself fulfilled some deep inner passion (more popularly known as writing).

So here she was, actually and physically inside the school building at an early hour. Her black raven hair was still wet from the shower but she was already inside the publication room, double checking her work. There were a few noises outside the room, maybe the students were arriving at this point. She glanced toward the door, thankfully she didn't forget to lock it. She then checked her watch. 6:15 a.m. Fifteen more minutes before classes start. She resumed cautiously examining every detail in her new chapter. And when she reached the bottom, she inserted her pen name. _**Midnight Writer**_.

Sometimes she thought her pseudoname sucked. A lousy, girly name. But then again, Sam Manson was a Goth so why would she care at all, right? Right. The pen name didn't matter, the only thing that mattered to her was to keep her identity classified. She didn't want to draw any attention from the public. She didn't need to. She just wanted to do whatever she loved to do.

Sam stood up and left the manuscript on the editor in chief's table. She then broke a gap between the door and the wall and peaked through it. Luckily, the hallway was empty. The kids must have dropped themselves to their rooms. She slid out of the room and went to her fisrt subject class. And as what she always did everyday of the whole school year. Sam entered the room alone.

_**DP---**_

Danny's eyes flickered open. And the first thing he saw was the ceiling above him. Clear, plain faded blue ceiling. As plain and boring as his painfully battered _existence_ . . . or as close to that word. For christ sake, he was alive and dead--well half-dead literally. A hybrid of human and ghost. Was that still under the existence category? Or was he even _existing_ at all? Did it make him some ultimate candidate for the world's most dreaded freak? He was stripped off of dignity all because of Vlad.

Vlad. Amity park. Revenge. His plan. Shit!

He drifted off again. He quickly got up and rolled from his bed. Great, he was going to be late, again. What else was new? Ugh, that would be his school. What was its name again? He racked his newly awakened brain for this 'new and amazing' school's name. Something nudged his insides. The school's name was whacked out coincidence. Because it was related to ghosts. Ghosts. That was it! It was Casper, Casper high. He nearly smiled. Life was very unpredictable.

He went inside the bathroom and did a quick shower. He dried himself up and put on his white he decided to give himself a glance from the mirror.

Wasn't Danny charming, displaying those fresh gashes from last night's battle with dear uncle Vlad?

He groaned in annoyance. These wounds wouldn't let him be a low profiler as he aimed to be. Got to find something that would keep these flaws under the radar. He suddenly wished he had something magical. Harry Potter's magic cloak would do the trick but God, he was a ghost! If you were talking about invisibility, he could do it to his torso without even blinking. Although it would make one hell of a circus if he arrived at school without an upper trunk. Another almost-smile factor.

Again, he got lost in his own little world. Darn it, he needed a damned shrit to hide these awful stains. Something dark and sleek and black. Black! That was exactly what he needed. He gave his closet one last good shove and grabbed a black hooded jacket. He put it on hastily, fetched his backpack and hurried down the stairs.

When he reached the base of the stairs, he crouched and waited. Careful not to be seen by his folks, worse Jazz, He didn't want any homily from any of them. The living room was empty. They must've been in the Kitchen, eating breakfast. That was what normal families do, don't they?

He felt confident enough so he crept toward the exit, cautious not to make any sound. Lunged himself to the door, grabbed the knob and--

"Sweetie, wait!" Came the sickeningly sweet voice of his mom.

Congratulations, he failed yet another attempt to sneak out of their own house. He cursed under his breath. He didn't really really need this. He didn't have the time to pretend that he liked hismom applying all those pampering stuff to him. He didn't need her to _care_ for him. He was 16! He could actually take _very_ good care of himself more than his beloved parents would ever know. He wasn't like the other teenagers out there who loved to put ut the tought-self costume. He wasn't like them. He wasn't normal.

"Son..." The voice of his mom floated around the bare walls of their dull house. Reverberating through each fiber of their goddamned so-called home.

"I'm late!" He snapped, as he clenched both of his fists, his back still turned to her.

"You didn't eat last night sweetie. Are you okay?" If his mom was hurt, she hid it very well. The uber concerned tone was still on afterall.

"I'm fine." He replied thourh his gritted teeth.

A soft warm hand extended and clamped around his shoulder. He grimaced inside. He felt weird and . . . weak, miserable. Something bolted through the odd feeling. Memories of his childhood, his past came flashing before his eyes.

He felt the sudden urge to get out and get wild. He imagined shooting ghost rays from his hands around their home and screaming at the top of his lungs like a raving lunatic. He felt the surge to run. Run away from everything.

And so he did.

The next thing he knew was bolting out from the front door and running the heck away from their house.

_**DP----**_

As embarrasing as it was to admit that Mr. Lancer's class was boring, Sam couldn't help herself nodding off to sleep. The odd black dream creatures kept taking her away from reality. Which seemed to be the most wonderful thing right now.

"Class, I have an announcement..." She heard Lancer's old dull voice. But it sounded like he was in the far mountain tops of Alaska.

_Don't sleep, you'll get detention._

Was it Lancer again or another slight concerned being?

"A trans..blah blah student. . . from . . ."

_Open your eyes! Come on._

Okay. . .That wasn't Lancer, not a non-significant being also. That, was her. Was it subconscious or conscience? She couldn't remember.

". . .consin. . .absent . . " His voice was vanishing from Sam's hearing territory again. "or . . late!"

The sound of Lancer's voice raised a few octaves higher and was accompanied by the huge and sharp slamming of some big object. . . or was it a gunshot? . . . Followed by the loud and startled gasps of the students. Put it all on the same time and you'd get Sam's head bolting from the desk she had been lying on moments ago.

_What the heck is going on?_

Sam rubbed her eyes to get a better look at her surroundings. The whole class had that idiotically surprised faces and was all wide-eyed at something right in front of the room. She turned her gaze to the path they were all looking at and she instantly registered the feisty anger in Lancer's eyes. He was gritting his teeth so hard Sam could imagine them slicing through his mouth. The line of his body tightened and became raw. Sam saw the restrained hot fume knocking inside Lancer's chest. He, too was staring intently at something in front.

Finally, Sam let her eyes flew to the object they were all watching. Although instead of seeing someone bloodied by what she thought was a gunshot, she saw a boy standing in front and a poor wooden door vast opened. _So that was the noise._ Sam conluded. Then she swung her thoughts back at the newly arrived boy. He had his hands hidden inside his black jacket's front pockets. And he was looking at Lancer as if he was a horribly funny puppet. A moment of dead silence passed. Then Lancer spoke.

"I assume you are Mr. Fenton."

"Yeah," He huffed boastfully as he strutted down to the middle of the room. Giving Sam and the others a good angle at him.

Sam heard the kids started whispering and nudging each other. At the corner of her eye, she saw Lancer forcing himself to be calm and in control. She glanced at the new kid and noticed he was sporting a faded blue jeans with a pair of old, dirty almost worn out white sneakers. He had a mass of black raven hair that nearly veiled down his eyes that what to be looked like a shade of sky blue.

Mr. Lancer sighed heavily. "Well, Mr. Fenton are you familiar with the word knock?"

The Fenton guy gave him a bored and smug look. He raised his nose higher than necessary.

"Yeah, whatever."

"Where are you from kid?" A male vocie from the center of the room asked suddenly. Sam recognized it without even looking, Dash Baxter, quarterback. Big blond moron who only gets interested in salivating model-like girls and beating up the losers. Couldn't things get any worse?

"Wisconsin, meathead." Said kid sparing Dash a mocking glance.

Gasps and oohhs hovered inside the room. Yes, this day was definitely going worse. Everybody knew facing Dash was like hitting yourself with a sledge hammer. Painfully non-sense, stupid and a total waste of valuable time. Well,everybody, except this newbie.

Dash sat up straighter in his seat to make himself look bigger. "So gorillas are like, allowed in Wisconsin?" Dash let a satisfied grin crossed his face.

Rich laughter followed closely by. Sam swore she saw the new kid's eyes flashed to glowing neon green. But it had gone rapidly. She could also see the boy clenching his fists under his pockets. He was about to retort when Mr. Lancer interrupted.

"That's enough. You two keep quiet."

Everyone turned to look at him and gave him the you're-a-killjoy-glare. Lancer pretended that he didn't notice anything and kept going.

"Mr. Fenton take that empty seat right beside Ms. Manson." Lancer pointed out his finger to the innocent chair lying just right beside Sam.

The whole class errupted in a loud guffaw. Resembling those of the vultures rejoicing over their pathetic victims. So. . . .things were transforming way past the word worst.

"That's great, you two could like, hook up and have freaking ugly kids!" Dash shouted that led to another wave of insulting laughter.

"Language!" Mr. Lancer screeched. "One last warning Mr. Baxter."

Sam ignored the last remnants of laughter and fascinated herself to the window on her left. Fenton,on the other hand began tracing his steps toward the unoccupied seat next to her.

"I'll keep an eye on you Mr. Fenton, I want you to know that, that kind of attitude isn't allowed in Casper high." Lancer stated as Fenton walked.

"Sure. . . " He mumbled. "Old man."

He dropped himself to the chair beside Sam. Cuupped up his chin with one hand,and just let his thoughts take over. He wasn't planning to listen or to get to know each student. Getting close to other people was the least to do in here. Particularly if he wasn't even planning to stay. He would be gone from this place before they even learn his address. Yes, he was selfish. Yes, he was uncaring. Yes , he was a liar. But that was due to his now-ruined and would-never-be-arranged life. He would just be known as that-guy-who-never-gives-a-damn-to-everything. That's just-

What the hell? His eyes transformed into slits and his brows went colliding on each other. Something grazed his elbow. Not painful but purely annoying. His eyes searched for the possible cause of it. And he almost laughed when he saw the one who did it.

---...--

**Sam** was attempting every probable way to ignore her new had tried gazing out the window, mesmerizing herself with the floor, doodling things on her plastic desk, turning her back on him, **but** nothing was working. She was feeling more and more awkward with every second while her friend-by-her-side was comfortably zoning off. How insane was to be bothered by someone who hadn't done anything to you?

Out of the corner of her eye, she caught an example of high-school-slut-picking-up-a-supposed-to-be-hottie. Her blood curdled at more than a hundred degree celsius. Those type of acts were one of the reasons why adults' thoughts of teenagers turned from trustworthy to flirtworthy. It was insulting for the fact that she never had a boyfriend. Not that she was looking for one anyway. She didn't need it. She had a full plate on her life so she didn't have to have another problem.

And there they were. The major stars of their own little film. Paulina Sanchez, the beautiful Latina A.K.A the queen bee of this school. Who had a peasize lump in her head as her brain. And was also a cheerleader. But that wasn't the reason Sam hated her. It was because of Paulina's super obsession to color pink and her empowering bratty attitude. Not to mention her magical ability to catch every guy's eye and heart. Even Harvey's. Which was truly depressing considered the fact that he was a smart guy. Only not that bright to identify Paulina as a brain-damaged doll.

And newsflash! There she was again, preying on her newly arrived victim. It seemed that the girl's long, perfectly manicured claws were already grasping its prey by the neck. She watched as Paulina threw a note to this Fenton's desk and how sickeningly pathetic she winked at him. Eeww.

--...--

**So much** for being invisble and not knowing everybody. Danny's eyes glistened with the combination of disappointment, annoyance and a little bit of disinterest. Some hot girl with silky black long hair and twinkling green eyes winked seductively at him. She was the one who hit him. She pointed a freshly manicured nail at something on top of his desk. He glanced at it and saw a poor, powerless crumpled paper sprawled gracefully in front of him. _A note huh_, he bemused. He stole a look back at the girl and she smiled contentedly. She even licked her own lips!

_Whoa, that was unusual!_ He peaked at Lancer who had his back at the class and babbling something about a moldy oldy piece of literature. Then stared at the paper in front of him. **To read or Not to read?** If he ignore the paper the Latina would sure to get angry or even upset. And a mad girl wouldn't make things anew. It would be pretty boring. He was certain he wouldn't even feel it. But if he uncrample and read it, there was the risk of getting caught by this old fat bald teacher. And risks were always thrilling to him, like a river of adrenaline coursing through his veins. Just thinking of its effect was stirring his insides madly. Besides, receving detention would be the best valid reason to get the hell out of this class. Aside from faking a heart attack or punching that blond moron square in his face who insulted him earlier.

So the answer? To read it. He took one last look on Lancer and beagan unraveling the paper. He was greeted with feminine cursive strokes, not that delicate but really girly with all those curls and drawn hearts around it.

---...---

**Okay**_**, **__this was getting really irritating. _Sam thought as she watched the to-be-couple. Seriously, how could a girl like Paulina, an abrassively mistress of the pink lip gloss who had a nice body but empty brains could instanly slither her way to every guy's damned gut? It was worse than a magic, it was a curse. Why did the world allowed creatures like her to live and be on top of the food chain? It was very, very **unfair**.

----...---

**Danny's **eyes shifted left to right as he stared incredulously at the note. The girl must have done it on purpose. She couldn't possibly wrote it in accident or confused it as the right term. He didn't know how should he react or what would he react in the first place. With both hands clutching the paper, he reread the note.

_Hey Handsome,_ There was a small vertical line and a hypen, below it was a half opened parenthesis. A supposed to be winking image.

_I'm Paulina, do yah want 2 sit with me, I mean us. The cool kids, duh. You know, where we can get to know itch other some more._

_Uhm...cuz I feel like, we're totally maid for itch other. and that's genius, really. Don't yah think?_

An innocent smirk was seen on Danny's face followed by the eruption of rich, insulting laughter. The class broke into stupefaction as they watched him clutched his stomach in sudden pure joy. Mr. Lancer's eyes twitched hazardously as trudged his way toward him.

"Do you find anything hilarious about the _Inferno_, Mr. Fenton?" The out-of-shaped teacher questioned with one perfectly arched brow.

"No," He said trying to constrain the remnants of his outburst and swiftly crumpling the note in his hands.

"Well, is there anything humorous in this room?"

"As a matter of fact, yeah, there is." He stated straightening up on his seat. There wasn't any trace of sudden happiness written on his face. But his eyes were shimmering with dark amusement.

"Really, Mr. Fenton." Lancer crossed his large arms over his chest. "Will you _kindly_ share it to us?"

"It _is_ you."

Sam shrugged her head in disbelief. This guy was definitely asking for trouble. Serious trouble.

"Me?" Lancer was nearing the zero level of patience.

"Yeah, you're hilarious. You're an out-of-shaped, bald, annoying teacher."

The room went dead with Danny's answer as he anticipated the next miraculous words from Lancer's mouth.

"Detention, Mr. Fenton. Now!" Lancer exclaimed in his rage.

Danny happily grabbed his backpack and dashed out of the room with lightning speed. Finally! He was free from that crowded hellhole. He could now put his plan to action. First things first, learn the school's instant exits. Know the hallways and rooms available for hiding. Familiarize with its blueprints.

In short, give yourself the grand tour!

**---...**

Hmmm, the sides of the hallway was plastered with all sorts of club posters, organization ads, school announcements, all that crap. If there was a wall behind those stuff, it was probably lying there somewhere, a few feet under those mob of papers. He was about to continue down the hall when a sound caught his ears. He broke into a halt and turned to look back.

"Hey," A kid wearing yellow sweatshirt and gray cargo pants greeted. "You're the new kid, right?"

Danny only raised his brow in return as he tried to read what was on this guy's mind.

"The name's Tuck, short for Tucker Foley." He extended a tanned hand to him and Danny just stared at it, as if he never experienced a handshake before.

This Tucker guy, he had a pair of eye-glasssed forest green eyes and a quirky smile that was about to fade when Danny looked like he wasn't going to accept the handshake. He was going to retreat his hand when Danny instantly grabbed it with lightning-fast speed and gave it with one quick good shake.

"Danny Fenton." He stated as he let go Tucker's hand. "Nice to meet you." Then, he begun to turn his back on him.

Tucker almost dropped his jaw at his withdrawal. But he recovered from it a little too swiflty. "I'm a publicist." He called out to the now walking away Fenton guy. "I know everybody!" something in his tone must have caught Danny's ear, he stopped, hesitated then started tracing his steps back to Tucker. "Uh, yeah, I know everybody cause I'm a member of the **Spark**, the school's newspaper. "He said as he gestured a copy of the newspaper in front Danny who managed to be on his previous position.

"_Everybody_, huh." The newbie's tone was deep and dark, it could've drown Tucker in.

"Yeah, almost 'xcept you. So, you're from. . .Wisconsin, right? Boy, that was quite far from this small town." He paused. "So, did you like Casper High? Do you find it interesting? We have tiny facilities here, compared to schools in Wisconsin. But the people here are great, they're friendly. And oh, I'm not just a member... "

If Tucker was paying much attention to Danny than his questions, he should've seen he wasn't even listening to him. Instead, he was staring at the newspaper rolled in Tucker's hand.

"...I could be a friend too. . ."Tucker continued as he landed a look on Danny, at last. He noticed his sudden odd and huge interest on his hand. Tucker's eyes traced the object Danny was so busy staring at. He was utterly startled when he realized Danny was forcing himself to read the rolled newspaper that was in his hand.

"Here." Tucker said as he offered the paper to Danny who was completely baffled with his action. He looked at Tucker with a questionable expression in his blue eyes. "Come on, it's yours. Don't worry, I can get another copy anytime I want."

Danny nodded almost imperceptibly as he took the paper from Tuck's hands. "Thanks." He mumbled, his eyes already scanning the headlines.

"No problem." He shrugged. "Just look for me if you need something-_anything ." _

"I'll be your friend." He said and truned to left.

Was it just Danny or that Tucker guy was actually sincere about being _his_ friend? Well, Danny smiled. _Some people might just be purely nice anyway._

Of course, he could be wrong. Tucker could be faking the friendly attitude just to unravel Danny's smelling dirty secrets then he would lay it out on public, giving Danny one good slap in the face, reminding him how painful it was to trust then be betrayed. Yeah, that's life. His life anyway.

Without even realizing it, he dodged a running someone on his right. Sharply turning a left then oof! He was unlucky to miss this someone on his left. The impact had thrown him off balance as he landed on his butt. The newspaper continously rolling on the floor, away from him.

Without a second, he was back to his feet and uncontrollably staring at the familiar girl dusting off herself. She looked up to him, incidentally staring at his emotion-emptied eyes and that was when he realized how alluring those pair of eyes were. It was an interestingly bizarre shade of amethyst.

"Sorry." She fidgeted, suddenly amazed by her own feet.

A word. Just a single, non-passionate, non-seductive word, and Danny concluded that he would absolutely have an unforgettable time here in Casper high. Things would be

_sickeningly twisted. _

But before all of that, he would certainly had to ask for this girl, _this mysteriously pretty girl_'s name.

And with that, he gave her his best, forced smile. "I'ts alright. I'm fine."

He instantly flashed a friendly angelic face and held out his hand. "Hi, I'm Danny."

The girl stared at it for seemed like a hundred hours then finally extended her own hand and made a nice fast shake."Sam" She hesitated. "Sam Manson."

_Two persons in one day. Not that half bad._Danny thought grimly. But of course, if anything could go wrong, it certainly would. He was two hundred percent sure about that.

---.....----_**DP**_

_**I know, another really long chapter. But like every other authors in , I'm hoping readers will like it.**_

_**(*And, as for Playing with a Deadly Virus, still in hiatus, process of rewriting it.)**_


	3. Typical Paulinagirl

_**Thanks for the reviews and welcome to the next chapter of Midnight Writer. (whoa, that rhymes)**_

_**I don't own DP. **_

_**...---DP--....**_

_Without a second, he was back to his feet and uncontrollably staring at the familiar girl dusting off herself. She looked up to him, incidentally staring at his emotion-emptied eyes and that was when he realized how alluring those pair of eyes were. It was an interestingly bizarre shade of amethyst._

_"Sorry." She fidgeted, suddenly amazed by her own feet._

_A word. Just a single, non-passionate, non-seductive word, and Danny concluded that he would absolutely have an unforgettable time here in Casper high. Things would be _

_sickeningly twisted. _

_But before all of that, he would certainly had to ask for this girl, this mysteriously pretty girl's name. _

_And with that, he gave her his best, forced smile. "I'ts alright. I'm fine."_

_He instantly flashed a friendly angelic face and held out his hand. "Hi, I'm Danny."_

_The girl stared at it for seemed like a hundred hours then finally extended her own hand and made a nice fast shake."Sam" She hesitated. "Sam Manson."_

_Two persons in one day. Not that half thought grimly. But of course, if anything could go wrong, it certainly would. He was two hundred percent sure about that._

**... ----**_**Chapter 3: A Typical Paulina-girl**_

"Pleased to meet you,_Sam_" Danny found himself talking oh-so nicely. It was him right? It was Danny Fenton talking. He wasn't just imagining it. It was real,uh probably. But talking to a girl was done by normal human beings, not by freaks.So what the hell was he doing?

"Uh...yeah. Right. I mean okay." The girl whose name was Sam replied. She was undeniably disturbed with his weird behavior. She kept shifting her weight and wasn't anywhere looking at him.

Danny tried his best not to roll his eyes. Yeah, right befriending a black-clad girl with an avoidance personality was on his top priorities list. That would certainly bring him success.

"Hey," The girl murmured. "Uh. . .here." She said handing the still-rolled and now-almost-crumpled newspaper to him. His eyes flashed with realization as he suddenly remembered the reason why that thing caught his attention. He snatched it from her hand, unintentionally brushing his skin to hers. The girl blinked as she tried to hide her surprise.

"Thanks." He shrugged as he made his way past her. He walked briskly, feeling her stare behind his back. Was it due to his nice-then-freaky behavior or the fact that he thanked her? Maybe the thanking part, cause he was even startled with himself for doing the 'thank you' thing two times this day. That had to be a new record.

_**...---DP**_

"Sam?" A voice from her ear whispered, flashing her back to reality.

"Huh?" She whipped her head in an instant and came face-to-face with a happy Tucker.

Sam felt light-headed, must be for the quick turning. She adjusted herself, getting ready for the Tucker Time. "I didn't see you coming." She attempted to cover her embarrassing act.

"Yeah, cause you were so busy staring at someone."

"Who was that anyway?" He questioned looking more intrigued than when he asked her about the grils who checked him out. "The crush?" His face lit up with a teasing knowledge. Something only he and Sam knew about.

Sam snorted in disbelief. "What's up?" She asked trying to steer out the conversation. Tucker noticed it but didn't argue anyway. Prying on Sam's personal life was like entering the horror house. Well, almost literally.

_**...-----.....**_

_Tucker Foley. Sam Manson. Mom. Sam Manson. _Danny counted mentally. How many people were still bound to be dragged in and tasted his revenge? Why couldn't he just picked out the guy he wanted to pummel and sentence him to another life? Why did he need to wait for this long? Why did he need to start all over? And why did he included Sam Manson on the list when she hadn't done a thing to him except for bumping at the corridor?

But most importantly,** Why **was he asking himself so many questions when he knew the answer to each of them? He let out a frustrated groan as he stopped. _"If you need something-__**anything. . ."**_ Tucker Foley's voice echoed inside his brain. And he almost physically punch himself for being too slow. _**Blessings are to be accepted not to be declined**_. He told himself as he actually smiled at his just-found solution. He _offered_, right? Danny didn't ask for it.

And now he just had to slightly change the course in order to reach his goal. Just a tiny weeny change.

He suddenly felt an overwhelming thrill to jog back, to go back and began his search for Tucker. To put his plan into action. To make things real and in perspective. To free himself and to escape this rotting half life.

Danny took the first step.

_**....----DP**_

"Pay my beloved Amity Park a short visit. I haven't had any news about it for a while. And I think I missed it so much." A deep, acidic male voice ordered in a soft but sadistic tone.

A shadow-cloaked creature hovering in front of him nodded. It was about to brace itself for the departure when the master spoke again.

"And, don't forget to check him out." He paused, a maniac grin appeared across his dark, deceptive features. "I don't want him to get rusty."

The dimmed figure nodded again then vanished into the steely cold air. Leaving its pale fanged-smiling master behind.

"Daniel, you're such a naive boy."

_**....-----DP**_

"They liked it!" Tucker declared spreading his arms upward as if he just won the lottery. Sam gave in to a real curious smile. But let her guard on.

"The girls are chatting about it and they are into _it_.." Tucker held both of Sam's shoulders and shook her lightly. "I'm telling you Sam, you're the bomb!"

Sam's amethyst eyes widened as she cupped her palm to Tucker's mouth,immediately shutting him down. Then she instinctively looked around for possible eavesdroppers. School was through for the day and the hallways were almost empty. Maybe there were a few hanging around but evidently and luckily, they weren't anywhere near them.

She double checked their surroundings, in case she had it wrong.

"uhmmff." Tucker groaned in annoyance, reminding her of his state.

She let him go, wiped her hand off and stared him down with a brow shot up. "How many times I've told you to-"

"Okay, I'm sorry."

She yanked Tucker by the arm and dragged him to the nearest, safest area, the publication room. She cracked the door open and both of them slid in then she pushed him down hard to a plastic chair that he almost fall from , Sam crossed her arms over her chest, tapped one combat boot on the floor and hissed "Alright, we're alone now, spit it all out. **In. a. Low. Voice**."

"Sorry,I just got over excited with all the feedbacks. I didn't mean to-"

"Yeah, fine, you got over excited, for the hundredth time. It's okay with me. No big deal." She cut in sarcastically.

Tucker opened his mouth to defend himself then closed it again. Arguing with Sam wasn't the good way to go when you were about to drop some true good news. He emitted a surrendering sigh and tried to regain his composure. He sat up straighter on his seat. "I have good news and bad news."

"Can't think of anything more tacky than that?" Another brilliant roll from Sam's purple eyes, ladies and gentlemen.

"No, besides it sort of a really fun thing to say." He paused. "So, what do you prefer to hear first?"

Sam let out her breath."Bad one."

Tucker cleared his throat and puffed out his chest. He put up a half-bad imitation of a news anchor delivering tonight's news. "According to the jocks, their chicks wouldn't shut up about some_ 'cheesy' _fantasy love story they read on the school's paper." He made air quotations as he said the word _cheesy_.

"Right." Sam agreed. "I knew from the start that boys would never like such nice things in this world." She added, "And Jocks? I doubt that they even read the paper."

"Come on, Sam. Don't underestimate _us_. Males are just head set about more important things in life." He then huffed, "Men, like me are kind of get-real type."

"Yeah, right. You really are getting real right now. Insanely fictional real."

"Yeah, think whatever you want, Sam. Someday you'll learn to accept the fact that males are dominammpff"

There was a muffled noise and Sam quickly hushed Tucker off. That was the second time she planted her hand on his mouth. She gestured him to listen closely. And they both went to press their ears on the wall. Shortly after that, another small cautious sound rang throughout the walls of the hallway. And it was clear that this time of the day, there was still someone else in the school besides them.

_**DP...---...**_

Okay, Danny sort of left that girl, Sam, here. At this part of the corridor, then he walked that way, opposite hers. So... either Sam followed him but he didn't see or she went to that direction. Oh, how stupid of him! Of course she went that way. He even caught a glimpse of Tucker and her whispering to each other moments ago. Why was he so conscious about this? It was just the school's hallway. And he was making a freaking great problem about it.

This was not him. This was the damned Danny who was always lost in the world around him. This was the outcast loser, freaky Danny that he knew. And always trying to get rid of. Why did he keep resurrecting that alter ego again and again? It was so frustrating!

His battered dirt-covered sneakers squeaked as he made his way. He was sure that he heard their voices. Talking about something he presumed private. Course, that was something private, Hell, they were murmuring to each other and moving conspisciously. He actually witnessed the girl dragging Tucker by the arm. He just didn't know which room they ducked in. He stopped, looking at three different wooden doors, waiting for his instincts to kick in.

Mmmnnn. Was it,

**a. Broom closet.** Who knows whatever they were doing there. They could be some coouple keeping a low profile. Or

**b. Publication Room.** Tucker mentioned being some newspaper person, right? And Sam could be some photo journalist who took pictures of the popular crowd while they were wasted. Or

**c. Mr. Lancer's Office.** One word, Detention.

or maybe it was **d. none of the above. **They just went home and Danny just killed his time for nothing.

He was on the verge of giving up when a blue thin mist escaped his mouth._ Oh, crap. You've gotta be kidding me._

His eyes darted back and forth as he scanned his surroundings. He braced himsefl, grabbed the knob, pulled it open and jumped inside the broom closet. Closing it briefly after him and transforming to a completely new persona. Two white rings appeared on his waist, encircling him then extending on the opposite directions. Leaving no tinge of Danny Fenton but a hovering guy in a black jumpsuit with white gloves and boots. He had snowy white hair and glowing neon green eyes.

He made himself intangible as he phased through the wall and searched the place for anything- ghosts, specifically- that triggered his ghost sense.

He felt a presence on his right, swiftly aimed his ghastly hand and fired a green ghost ray. With a blink of an eye, a bulky mechanical ghost was literally flying toward the opposite direction.

"Hey Skulker." He greeted. "Missed me?"

_**...----DP**_

"Did you hear that?" Tucker asked Sam in a mixture of confusion, aghast and a little bit of excitement.

"No." Answered Sam. "I thought it was just someone crashing through the school's things." She added sardonically

Tucker sniggered loudly. Sometimes he liked beautiful and sexy girls, like Hispanic Paulina or blonde Star. But alot of times, he also resented them for being so freaking unpredictable. Like Sam.

"Well?"

"Huh?" Sam had just pulled out Tucker from his thoughts. "What Well?"

Sam let out an irritated exasperation. "Are you just going to stand there and let your imagination ran wild or you're coming with me to check _that_ out." She jerked her thumb backward, gesturing to the door behind her.

Tucker hesitated for a second, then grabbed his backpack. PDA ready in one hand. But Sam, on the other hand had prepared herself and was already out the door before he had the chance to warn her.

"Sam! Wait!" He tried to call out but all he got was a door slamming shut.

_**...---DP**_

"Missed you?" The mechanical hunter ghost snickered in disbelief. "I missed hunting you, punk!" He said as blasted him with an ecto-ray .

The black-jumpsuit-covered ghost dodged it very easily as he laughed at the hunter one, Skulker. "What, still not improving with your sense of humor?" He countered with a tremendous kick on Skulker's weaponed-back that sent him crashing down again.

He then pulled out a silver cylinder from his back that somewhat looked like a thermos, the one used for containing soup when traveling. He snapped it open and pointed at the recovering Skulker. He was about to let out another insulting banter when something made him stop temporarily. A movement caught his eyes. He tilted his head to the side to see what was it--

--rather _who_ was it. He was caught off guard when he saw someone familiar appearing on the scene. There was Sam, clumsy bump girl who loves black and didn't want to interact with people. Whoa, Danny thought. Too much description there. It was like he knew her even though they had just spoke for the first time minutes ago.

She was standing right outside the publication room, completely shocked with what she witnessed. She was absently gaping at Skulker who was down for the count.

What the hell was she doing inside the publication room this time of the day? School was through for the day right? Hey, and where was Tucker? Was he inside too? It wasn't like they were a _thing_. They just. . .couldn't. . .be a thing. Wait, a sec, was he--

The next thing he knew, his ghostly face was stinging so hard. If he was in human form it would be the best time for blood to start sputtering all over his features. Skulker had managed to retrieve his energy and hit him when he was too busy staring at Sam.

He stayed on the air, barely restraining himself from rubbing the injured spot. Damn. If he still wanted to continue with that plan he had to keep himself half-alive. He positioned himself and took a careful aim at Skulker who had his back on him. Yeah, his artificial-can head would be the best spot. Perfect. Just one blast of his ghost ray and Skulker would be waking up in the next timezone. He just need to focus his energy on his hand, point it at him and--Wait, why was he ignoring him all of a sudden?

Danny peaked at something in front of the ghost hunter. And he nearly yelped in surprise. Skulker and Sam, enagged in a glaring event. This girl was definitely not the let-it-go-and-run type. What the- oh, shit! Skulker was poising his hand on the trigger of his gun. He had to do something before Skulker turned Sam into a pile of black ashes.

Without thinking any further, Danny sped down and timely fished Sam by the waist out of the gun's path. She had no time to react as he wrapped his dead cold arm around her petite trunk and at the same time shooting his enemy with the hand that wasn't busy holding a person.

Skulker was thrown off balance. He accidentally dropped his gun and both of them clattered on the floor. Meanwhile, Danny didn't waste time in weakening him more. His mind was only set about Sam. He instantly had the most irresisting urge to put her in some safe place, to protect her even if it meant losing his entire energy. Yeah, it was so freaking corny but that was what he truly felt.

_**...--DP**_

"He _beat_ you?" The vampire-like ghost half-asked and half-stated. "**He beat you!**" He bellowed at his minion who had his head hanging down, eyes cast downward. He then studied his follower, his weapons were wrecked, jet pack was torn in half and his suit was in shreds.

"How could he tossed you like that? "

The ghost chose to stay silent in return.

"The girl, how about the girl?"

This time, the ghost finally answered. "I almost got her but _he_ interfered."

"You mean he _saved her_." The hunter nodded briefly. It was obvious he didn't like to be put under authorization. "So, he still hadn't changed after all."

"Poor boy, he lives in the fantasy that he could be cold and heartless. He thinks he could take me out of the picture." He emanated a deep chuckle that sounded more like a growl. "He still got the idiotic hero complex inside."

He fixed his bloody red eyes on his useless ghost. "Let things cool down, just keep a keen eye on him." He paused and added, "And the girl, too."

The hunter nooded again and disappeared from his master's sight.

_**...----DP**_

"Where do you live?" The flying, jumpsuit-wearing guy asked Sam. They had been touring around Amity Park for a while since the incident. As in the time where she had almost met her own death, courtesy of some mechanical thing that had alot of weapons and had the power to set gravity aside. Just like her little friend here. This guy, he was clearly not a human, but he did save her butt. That didn't happen on a usual basis, actually it never happened, except now.

So, whoever and whatever this guy was, Sam was practically not on the level of trusting him. But maybe she could cut him some slack for sparing her life. Maybe.

"Uh. . .miss." His new profound hero looked like he'd rather shot himself than to be right here, with her, in this very awkward state.

"Uhm, thanks but I can handle it from here." She said as she accidentally glanced at him on the eye and noticed his eyes were vivid glowing neon green. It was hypnotic. And somewhat familiar. Where had she seen those eyes?

"Here. . ." He echoed slowly with a small laugh as he looked down. They were evidently hovering a few feet in the air, past the tall buildings of the town.

Sam traced his sight and realized her mistake. She felt really, really stupid. She could've worn a bright fushia dress right now than to endure this. Scratch that, okay that was worse. She'd go back to being here, in this state. "Uhm, I mean, not literally here, but uh..." What, did she know what she meant? What the heck was going on with her vocabulary?

"Okay." He whispered, a sly smile plastered on his pale white could feel his breath on her neck. She had no idea what that okay meant. Yet she nodded anyway.

"Tell me where your house is." He commanded softly. Was he some kind of a maniac in disguise or a disgustingly romantic guy?

"Straight left. The farthest one." She replied, averting her gaze from his eyes. She was definitely acting like a typical Paulina-girl. It made her sick.

He made a sound, Sam couldn't quite recognize what but she assumed it was probably an agreement one. He hugged her closer to his chest. "Are you afraid of heights?" Now, his tone was dark as if she was talking to a totally different guy. Was it really possible for having a split personality?

Better yet, she decided not to give him the satifaction he thirsted for. "No, I'm not afraid." She stated defiantly.

"Okay." He chuckled. "Then hold on tight." She obeyed and tightened her grasp on him. And they both zoomed through the cold twilight sky.

_**...----DP**_

He gently put her down. Slowly, unwrapping his arms around her and at the same time studying the place.

"Thanks again." Sam said, lightly pushing him off. Feeling angry at herself. So, she agreed to let him send her home, not just right at her doorstep but directly inside her room. Her sacred sanctuary.

"Are you always alone?" His voice was so. . . feelingless. It seemed that he drank two hundred gallons of anesthesia. Or maybe that came with the price of being _dead_. Was he dead already? Was he a _ghost_?

"Yes. Uh, No." She found herself unable to give a right answer. What if he was some crazed up stalker, a sadisitic rapist, or a souless serial killer? Or maybe he was just a guy asking her a simple damn question and she was theorizing like a mentally ill person.

He stiffled another laugh. Then rubbed the back of his neck. "Well, you're okay, now." He inhaled deeply as if he was hesitating. "I should go."

With that, he rose from the ground, hovered then made himself intangible and vanished through the ceiling. Leaving Sam with a jaw hanging open.

Stupid. stupid. stupid. She mentally cursed as she realized she hadn't even ask for a name. _Yeah, I'm such a moron._

_**...---DP**_

He landed on his room with a small thud. It was late, his parents were probably snoring away in dreamland. Not that he cared anyway, it was one of those things stamped on his memory. Like answering the equation one plus one. He got into a battle, he got home swelling, bleeding, the entire Fenton family was in deep slumber, completely missing the fact that their son nearly lose the other half of his life, he dressed his injuries, and he went to sleep. It was more than a daily routine. It was part of his life.

Well, half of it anyway. He reverted back to his human form. And quickly felt his body screaming, pleading him to get some rest. He pulled up the black jacket from his head and turned to his bed. He was just so tired. He wanted to throw himself to bed and let sleep redeem him. And hopefully, he wouldn't wake up the next day.

He didn't want to check his wounds, couldn't actually. He just need to lay on his comfortable be--What the hell was that thing? He suddenly felt very awake. He went to the edge of his study table and stared at the thing on it. It was paper, not just any paper. It was a note. A proof of surveillance. A threat. And he knew exactly where it had come from. Vlad.

He bent down and reached for it. His eyes flashed to vigorous green, his fist clenched the paper so hard it almost tore apart. Then he shut his eyes and crumpled the note in one hand. Whatever Vlad meant with that, Danny was sure it would do evil. He threw it far across his room and didn't bother to analyze it more.

He should have.

**DANIEL,**

_you couldn't aways_ _see_ _the_ _knight_ _comng. you would only learn- when it comes and eliminates you off the board. _

**be careful.**

_A __**S**__t__**A**__le __**M**__ate is a very painful shame. _

_**......------DP**_

_**It's not that half bad, is it?**_

_**And you're probably like, "What happened to Tucker?"**_

_**Uhm, he'd reappear soon. **_


End file.
